


Micheal My Beloved (I'll Give You The World)

by lizbethen



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Discrimination, He Is The Main Character Now, His Parents Love Him, Hostile Mob Hybrids Aren't Exactly Loved By Player Society, Hybrids, I Gave Micheal A Tragic Backstory, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I made it so friendly mob hybrids are basically included as basic players, I never thought I would write that sentence but here we are I guess, M/M, Micheal The Zombie Piglin, Micheal is Confused But It's Okay, Mob Hybrids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Piglin culture, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Player Culture, Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo Have a Child Named Michael, Ranboo did not have a happy childhood, Video Game Mechanics, also most nether hybrids are seen as stupid or animalistic by player society, and their culture is hated, but still, he can't remember it, i would die for him, mild body horror, so basically Players are the straight white cis men of minecraft, so their culture is completely overlooked, while hostile mob hybrids are more feared than anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-28 15:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizbethen/pseuds/lizbethen
Summary: I adore Micheal so I had to write for him. The First chapter is just a peek into Micheal's mind and his perspective of what's going on.Micheal is in a new world, learning new concepts, and he thinks maybe that isn't such a bad thing.I used some of the Piglin Culture from ImperialKatwala 's Life and Times of Micheal Underscore_Beloved , and their work is definitely better so go look at theirsEnjoy! <3
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Micheal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is a rant have a nice day

Snow falls gently outside the little cabin, frost dusting the windowpane and chilly air creeping in through the smallest cracks. ‘Micheal’ stands fervently in his corner, remaining eye following the biggest puffs of snow as they fall out of sight.

The Child knew that there was white stuff outside on the ground, but he’d thought it was just  _ there _ \- like the roots in the Crimson Forests or the small pockets of gold hidden in the nether rack. He’d never seen it fall before. It was like- like that thing that fell outside when the changing roof went dark instead of white.

Everything is new, everything is strange. He’s never even seen  _ white _ before, only a few times when the Players came to trade. He wasn’t even supposed to be there during transactions, he’d hidden behind the wall to catch glimpses of the strange creatures while the Elder Piglins made the deals.

It was odd, the way he used to think of Players. The Elders of the Bastion had always made them seem like these legendary creatures from another world, with advanced redstone Technology and incredible magic Powers. Now that the Child was living with two Players, in a Player Bastion, wearing Player clothes and in a Player’s house, it all seemed so silly- Bee and Boo were so gentle, they weren’t scary like the Players that came to trade.

( _ The strange Player in his shimmering black armor cut through the battalion of Piglins, and the Child squeaked and ran into the forest, trying to ignore the cries of the Elders as they fell- of the  _ **_Younglings_ ** _ as they fell-) _

The oddest part was the outside, though.

The Child twitches his nose at the window, trying to sniff at the white things through the glass. They look fluffy.

He’d heard of water from the Elders, of course- it was an odd concept. It flowed like molten metal but was cool like the inside of Crimson Fruit. It was the color of Warped wood, but could also go clear like the tears of Ghasts. Piglins didn’t need it to survive- there was none of it in the Nether, after all. But Players could only go for so long without it; the Elders said it was like food for them, which is why they only stayed in the Nether for so long before going through their strange purple doorways, which somehow led back to their home, ‘The Overworld.’

He’d never seen water before, and now there are little flakes of frozen water drifting out of the Roof like ash. The Overworld never ceases to surprise him.

New Bird makes it’s odd noise beside him, tilting its head in his direction. He grunts at it quietly. He can’t understand it, but New Bird is comforting. New Bird stays while Bee and Boo have to go. He likes New Bird.

The Child finally turns away from the window and moves to the table next to the Sleeping Thing. Boo had left a weird bread with sticky white on it a couple days ago, and so far he hasn’t been brave enough to eat it. (He thinks it’s for eating?) It’s more  _ white _ , and so far white is just more surprises every time.

_ For eating _ , a voice whispers next to him, and he flicks an ear at it. He doesn’t know why he keeps hearing them, but someone keeps talking to him. He can’t smell them anywhere, so they’re not hiding- but that might be because of the smell of the Weird Bread, overpowering the other scents. It smells  _ really good _ , like the Warped Fruits he sometimes got at the bastion as a treat, after a good Trade. But  _ better _ , somehow.

He pokes it tentatively, sniffing at it. A bit of the white comes off on his thick finger. He isn’t sure whether he should wipe it off or eat it, so he leaves it there for now.

The child’s room is filled with so many things he doesn’t understand, like the books that hold beautiful pictures inside. He’s not sure what the pictures are trying to say, but they show him so many colors and there’s even one about the Nether. He has mixed feelings about that one, it reminds him of his old home, but the Piglins look scary and not like his sounder, not like his tribe. It makes him sad, even if he’s glad to look at them.

Boo sometimes reads to him from the books. He is pretty sure Boo knows that the Child can’t speak his language, but the droning noises are soothing nonetheless. Boo sometimes switches the sounds, and he speaks like the towering black Endlings that would sometimes appear near the Bastion. All he remembers of them was  _ don’t look them in the eyes. _ Their eyes are a very pretty purple, but he knows you should never look at them.

He can’t remember why, though. He supposes it must not matter.

Then there’s the Sleeping Thing. It’s  _ so soft _ , like the fuzz on his nose or the fur on Bee’s head. The cloth that’s on top isn’t for wearing, like he thought, but for… covering? They stay on the Thing, and Bee would wrap it around him when he was almost asleep, when the light stopped coming through the window.

That was another odd thing. After a while, the light stopped coming from the outside. It always came back, but it was scary. At least in the Nether it was bright all the time. He’s only seen  _ dark _ in the deepest corners of his Bastion, far away from the torches and Lava lakes. But having the whole world go dark- it was scary. He’d clung to Boo the whole first Darktime, afraid the Roof was falling on them. Boo was very patient- he did that odd speaking noise, where the sounds would go up and down in a way that made the Child fall asleep so fast. And he held him close to his chest, and he ran a thumb down the base of his ear. The contact made him whine; which made Boo chuckle and do it more. He was glad, and almost forgot about the Dark.

He was so very, very tired once Lighttime came back again, and Bee held him the whole time. He felt precious, snuggled against Bee’s chest in this cold Overworld.

_ New sounder? _ A voice prods carefully. He snuffles and tilts his head. The voices are different every time- but they’re always nice, so he supposes he would let them hide for the meantime. Even if they ask... odd questions. He doesn’t want to think about Sounders right now.

The White is still on his finger. He sniffs at it again. It smells  _ amazing _ \- surely a small bit couldn’t hurt him, even if it was poisoned or rotting?

( _ His brain is foggy, and he feels like he can’t breathe- and that should be dwarfed by the panic because his _ **_skin is rotting and falling off_ ** _ but he can’t think clearly and he thinks maybe this is why they told him to stay away from the wilde mushrooms that the Groaning Elders ate- _ )

He licks it. The flavor doesn’t hit right away, but when it does he squeals loudly and sticks a hand in the Weird Bread. He’s never  _ tasted _ something like that- it’s so much! It’s like the odd round red things that Boo brings him, but  _ more _ and  _ different _ and  _ sticky _ and  _ it melts in his mouth _ and- and it’s- something he doesn’t know about. Another new thing.

He wilts a little at that, at the overwhelming  _ newness _ of Everything, but continues to scrabble at the Weird Bread until he has a large chunk of it in his paws. The White melts a little in his mouth again,  _ and he doesn’t know the word for how it feels on his tongue _ , but the Bread bit of it is almost- wet? It feels like the moisture of the Water, but there’s so much less of it- it’s like biting into a sponge-  _ what is this _ .

Before he knows it, the Weird Bread is gone, and he is licking the tips of his fingers for the last bits of that new flavor. He  _ wants _ it. New Bird clucks next to him, picking up the little bits of bread that have fallen on the floor. He pats it gently on the back.

The echoes of the taste roll around his mouth as he moves to the shelf that holds all the books. He doesn’t want to look at the Nether Book today- it makes him sad. Which is weird. Everything is weird. He thinks that’ll be fine.

Instead he picks up what he’s been calling the Sad Player and the Dark Place. He can’t read the words on the paper- but the pictures themselves are so pretty and tell a cool story by themselves. Besides, he thinks New Bird likes it when he reads to it.

He plops down on the Sleeping Thing and sighs- Bee and Boo won’t wrap the Covering Cloth around him tonight- he can tell by how the house is so quiet and dark downstairs, and how Dark it is outside already. The White falling outside might be making it look darker, but he’s starting to feel sleepy anyway.

The Child pulls New Bird onto the Sleeping Thing with him and tugs the Covering Cloth around the both of them. New Bird clucks again, and the Child fumbles with the book until he’s opened it to the first page. The picture is mostly the green ground of the Overworld, and there was a Player with a green hat sitting on it under an Overworld Tree. He was very young, and he looked sad.

He told New Bird the story of Sad Player, who travels the whole Overworld looking for something, meeting new people and giving them his things. He even goes to the Nether, where he talks to Big Piglin with fancy Gold Jewelry all over him, and the Piglin shows him a strange green circle. Sad Player jumps in and goes to the Dark Place, where he meets Sad Endling. She gives him big, soft- something. They extend out of his back, and they are bigger than he is and Sad Player doesn’t look as sad anymore, so maybe he was looking for those?

The last picture in the book is of Sad Player standing in the Overworld again, an Elder Player now, instead of a Youngling, and he is smiling. He still has his hat, and the tree from before is much bigger but it is still there.

The Child closes the book contentedly, and New Bird clucks sleepily. He nods at them, putting the book on the floor next to the Sleeping thing. The Darktime is here now, and he’ll see Bee or Boo when the Light comes back- and then he can ask for more Weird Bread.

His Sleeping Thing is very, very soft. And warm. Not warm like the Nether- he doubts anything in the Overworld can match how the heat bundled up around him and stuck to his clothes and skin and boiled in the air. But it is much warmer than the rest of his room, which is warmer than the rest of the house, which is warmer than outside.

He is already half asleep when Bee pokes his head in through the trapdoor, and can’t do anything but huff softly when Bee kisses him on the forehead and tucks the Covering Cloth around his shoulders and New Bird. Bee leaves after turning out most of the Lanterns.

Another new thing- that strange connection between how warm he was and how Bee and Boo acted when he was around them. A warmth on the inside, rather than on his skin- like he’s something rare and precious, something to look at and protect and save. Something to kiss and snuggle and tuck in and read to in odd languages and spend time with and run long fingers along the base of his ear.

( _ The Elder Piglins were too busy to look after every Youngling. If they got hurt or scared, of course they would sit down and help and distract, but there were too many Younglings to look after them all individually, spend time just for them. _ )

Maybe new isn’t so bad, the Child thinks as the trapdoor closes behind Bee and he snuggles into New Bird under the Covering Cloth, all new things that are all just for him.

Snow falls gently outside the little cabin, another quiet layer of protection around Micheal as he falls asleep.


	2. The First of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was shorter bc I had less planned out but here you go, Randad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Discrimination, Body Horror? Just avoid the stuff in parentheses for these

The dusk-tinted Overworld sinks into the sleepy hum of silence, the kind of silence that is punctuated by crickets and the crunching of snow underfoot, occasionally the groan or clatter of mobs roaming around, but otherwise the night is peaceful.

Micheal is _terrified_ . Ranboo isn’t sure what to do, but it’s almost midnight and Micheal should be in _bed_ and _asleep_ and he’s starting to _panic_ because Micheal _also_ panicking, and he has been for the past _three hours_ and it hurts him- an almost physical kick to the chest as the Youngling trembles and shrinks against the wall. He hasn’t even let Ranboo near him since the sun began to set, flinching or squirming away whenever he approaches within a foot and Ranboo doesn’t know _why_.

He’s kneeling on the floor, a few feet away from Micheal in his little corner near the window. The baby piglin can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the view of Snowchester under the moon, quivering and squeaking occasionally. Ranboo’s legs are nearly asleep from kneeling for so long, but he couldn’t care less.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, _K̵̺̈à̸̬l̴̳̿_.” He continues to reassure gently while Micheal looks with terrified eyes out the window, where the stars twinkle far too cheerfully for the situation. “You’re okay, alright? There’s nothing out there that’s gonna get you, you’re safe in here.”

A creeper explodes outside somewhere, and Micheal screams and finally runs to Ranboo, burying himself in the Snowchester traditional coat that Tubbo lent him; fuzzy warm on the inside and thick leather for the outer layer. Ranboo fumbles with the boy for a moment, but wraps long Enderman arms around him after a moment and pulls him close. He quietly warbles in his native language, the noise releasing some of his stress.

_(The girl screams and flinches away from him and the noise, and the other person in the room is taking out a crossbow and he knows now why the Haunting told him to stay quiet around Players and he can’t even blame the mothers for backing away with their children in the streets as he passes by.)_

Micheal just whimpers and curls against Ranboo’s chest, tiny fists pulling at his coat. Ranboo rocks him gently and moves them to the bed. He can tell from the state Micheal is in that neither of them will be getting any sleep tonight.

He’s alright with that.

Micheal never ceases to shiver and glance with terrified eyes at the window every couple minutes. So Ranboo keeps rubbing his arms gently and telling Micheal all about everything going on- mostly the happy things. His trip to the Woodland Mansion with Techno, learning to cook with Phil and the numerous things he’s burned during that time. Tommy’s left-behind projects, the progress on his and Tubbo’s hotel.

He’s not sure he’s ever talked for so long, or felt quite so worried.

_(That’s not true)_

_(“Ranboo, it’s hurting him, we have to stop,_ _please_ _stop!” Tubbo nearly begs as he holds the Youngling in trembling arms.)_

_(“I’m almost finished, I just need to focus, we’re almost done-” Micheal’s whimpers turn briefly into a shriek of pain as Ranboo rubs Potions of Weakness into the Rot, nausea creeping at his stomach as the flesh wrinkles unnaturally under his fingers, too cold and too smooth and too pale and)_

_(_ ** _too_** **_fragile and he watches as the Rot moves with the pressure he’s applying and shrinks away to reveal festering muscle, and Tubbo turns green and Micheal is still screaming_** _-)_

“I’ve been working hard, you know,” He says with a slightly shaking voice. “Grinding a lot. I have a lot more resources than before, but I still have a long way to go if I want to…” Want to what? Dream was in Prison. Techno was basically retired. He was living far away from the conflict, and no one was causing much trouble anyway. There was no big immediate threat to anyone he loved. Not right now.

He continues on a different subject, the lack of Dream’s voice recently. He hasn’t returned to the panic room since he got his pets, which might be in correlation with it’s disappearance? But he’s still glad that nothing has happened and isn’t taking any chances.

“I’m scared,” He admits quietly. Micheal is listening intently, despite his inability to understand. “It’s gone for now, of course- but if it ever comes back, and I blank out again, I could-” He swallows. “I could hurt Tubbo. Or To-" he chokes on Tommy's name, remembering he's _dead dead dead_ "- Or Techno, or Phil, or Fundy or-”

Micheal squeaks quietly. Ranboo swallows again. “Or you.” He whispers. “They can all protect themselves from me, but you- I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I hurt you.” He runs his thumb along the base of Micheal’s ear. The child whines and leans into the contact, which makes Ranboo laugh in spite of himself and repeat the gentle motion. “I’ll be so careful, I promise.” He breathes with a small smile. “I’ll avoid anything that could make me Enderwalk, I’ll keep Weakness on me all the time, I’ll have someone train you when you’re older, so you’ll always be safe. You’re always gonna be safe here, Micheal. _K̵̺̈à̸̬l̴̳̿_.” Repeating Micheal’s name in Endspeak is freeing. 

Micheal will grow up hearing Common and Endspeak, never learning the Player’s bias towards hybrids in a Server accepting to any species, in a Town run by hybrids. Never being discriminated against as weak or less, in a World where Technoblade looms and demands respect. Never questioning his value, in a land of Veterans who share some of his strange features and scars.

Micheal will be safe on the Dream SMP, even if Ranboo has to fight every day to keep him that way. The Enderman in him purrs, and he knows that Micheal will always find a home with any Haunting that honors his Claim of the child.

Micheal will never go through what Ranboo has been forced to, and in that Ranboo can rest easy.

Micheal will be safe, and loved.

That, he will make sure of.


End file.
